


Carving Out a Middle Path

by AquilaMage



Category: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Gen, Pre-Game Events, let zelda have some agency and her own adventures nintendo geez, mentions of her father and link, not quite canon compliant but also not enough different to really be an au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-14
Updated: 2019-06-14
Packaged: 2020-05-07 20:26:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19216915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AquilaMage/pseuds/AquilaMage
Summary: Zelda returns from the Spring of Power with nothing to show for it but an ever-growing frustration for how her prayers continue to go unanswered. Desperate, and with months left until she can access the next spring, she decides to take things into her own hands, at least for a while.





	Carving Out a Middle Path

**Author's Note:**

> That botw 2 trailer really got me thinking again about how much I love my rowdy science daughter and how much better she deserved, and I remembered an old idea I had of her actually getting to do something. and this was born.
> 
> The ending and everything leaves this very up for becoming a whole big story, but for right now at least I don't have any plans to definitely add to it. too many different thoughts about what could happen, not enough substance to structure a whole story.

As soon as the two of them entered through the gates of Hyrule Castle, Zelda pushed past Link, leaving them to deliver the report to the king alone as she ran off in the other direction. She wove her way through the castle on autopilot, barely catching herself in time to skid to a stop just outside the guard’s view. With a wistful look at the door to her old room, she turned on her heel and stormed over to her current one.

The first thing she did once the door slammed shut was yank her ceremonial dress off over her head and toss it into a corner. Glaring at it only increased her agitation, until she flung herself on the bed and let out a series of muffled screams.

When Zelda finally lifted her head up, the sky outside her window had gone from the barely orange tint of pre-sunset to the blue-black of early night. Heaving a sigh, she threw on the first nightclothes in reach. She paused right before lighting a candle. Right. No one had come to check on her yet, so it wasn’t likely they would tonight, but it still paid to be careful, and checking would be easier if she did so before the shadows might give her away. Zelda crept to the door and pressed her ear to the wood. Nothing that she could pick up on. Just to be safe, she opened the door a crack to peer down the hall in both directions. Deserted.

Only then did she light the candle and place it on the floor so she could carry the table over to a corner of the room. Climbing on it, she reached up and shifted a section of the ceiling to extract a journal.

It was running low on empty pages, she noted with dismay as she settled with it on the bed. This one had been hard enough to sneak past her father once he’d banned her from her research. Getting her hands on a blank one and then finding another secure hiding place would only prove more of a challenge.

Her hand trembled as she held it over the page, posed to write. What was there to tell, since she’d last written? That she’d traveled to the Spring of Power and met with yet another failure, just as she’d predicted? Eyes burning, she shut the book, and with the same amount of care, replaced it in its hiding place.

Her mind a muddle of half-formed thoughts, she only realized that she’d made to begin her evening meditations to the Goddesses as she was sitting in the corner of her room dedicated to it. Normally, she would have gone through with it, the motions of the ritual so practiced that they took no effort whatsoever anyway. But this time, faced with the yawning emptiness of the ritual, knowing there would logically be no chance of this time being any different from the thousands of other times, and with the stinging failure of her trip to the spring so fresh in her mind, this time Zelda gave up and simply burrowed herself under her blankets.

And yet…she knew that this was all she had to look forward to, endless hours of praying and meditating and avoiding her father’s disappointment and scorn, only ever able to sneak the barest hints of the things she wanted to do, and she _hated_ it with a crawling discomfort that left her unable to sleep until she finally kicked the covers off and sat up.

For Nay- …whoever’s sake, she was a scholar and a _scientist_ ; if anyone else had told her they’d tried the same thing over and over as much as she’d repeated these rituals and prayers, she would have told them that it was obvious that method wasn’t going to work. That they needed to change _something_ about their approach, to look at things from a different angle.

Not that her father (or anyone else, for that matter, it seemed) would let her. Not if she stayed here, at least.

She ran a hand through her hair. Zelda had thought about this before, of course. Fantasized about leaving, shedding the mantle of her responsibilities and all the choking, cloying dust of tradition that came with it. She’d dreamed of breathing the fresh air of the wilds on her own for so long she couldn’t remember when it had begun. But every time, her father’s words and the guilt of the fact that giving up meant failure had stopped her. _She has a duty, an unfulfilled responsibility, must be single-minded in her training and stop acting like a spoiled child by playing at a scholar. She is the only one who can do this, and this is the only way. It is destiny’s design!_

But…designs could always be worked around, couldn’t they? She began to pace the length of her room, deep in thought. _Perhaps_ she didn’t need to completely abandon her spiritual efforts in order to do research.

Her seventeenth birthday, her next chance at something new that might actually awaken her powers, wouldn’t happen for several months yet. On one hand, she could stay here, let herself be consumed with the same directionless training she’s spent ten years on already. On the other… Out there, with the freedom to research the relics of the past, she just might have the chance to find a different way to face the oncoming threat, something that _might actually work_. Besides, she’d read accounts of people going on solitary journeys into the wild as spiritual retreats, to better connect with the world around them as well as their inner selves. Why couldn’t she try the same?

Her mind made up, Zelda jumped into action right away before she could find some excuse not to go. Or worse, to have something happen that would impede her leaving. Considering the late hour, sneaking about to acquire supplies proved to be simple, although she still made her way as carefully as possible, stopping back at her room between trips to alleviate suspicion if she were caught. She trusted herself well enough to know how to forage safely, so food wasn’t a high concern. Just some staples to last her a few days. Her modest stash of rupees would hopefully be enough to cover the things she couldn’t safely pilfer from the supply area.

Then there was the matter of her wardrobe. Currently, there wasn’t a single piece of clothing she owned that didn’t scream ‘princess’ – another thing her father had insisted on: that she be proper for her role, that she always keep in mind her place. So, she rooted through the laundry until she found something about her size and suitably nondescript, offering a silent apology to the hapless guard whose spare clothing she’d stolen. A simple tunic and pants, boots, and, after a moment’s hesitation, a hood and scarf that she shoved on top of everything else.

As for the rest of a disguise, she was fortunate enough that outside of the Castle Town area, not many would actually recognize her as the Princess without her usual attire. Not to mention that few of the ordinary citizens of Hyrule were aware that the royal family had Sheikah blood. With her features – pointed ears, skin dark to match her father’s, brown eyes that looked red in the right light, and hair that was bright gold now (her father’s insistence, he did not enjoy the reminder of that part of her heritage), but a her natural blond a shade too desaturated to belong to a pure Hylian – a Sheikah-Hylian orphan wandering through would be accepted in most places without question.

And of course, if she really meant to use this time to dedicate to her research, she would need her notes to start from. Zelda paused in the middle of packing what she’d already gathered into a bag. Her old room, her study, oh how she ached to see them one more time before departing! Some of her fondest memories were of the time she’d spent pouring over texts or analyzing plant matter in that tiny room. But the sheer volume of her writings inside would make taking enough of it to be of value impossible. Fortunately, she had a more compact version that she had planned to take with her already.

Ironically, the princess’s old quarters were more heavily guarded than the Sheikah Slate, which merely sat on one of the worktables in the area dedicated to researching the Guardians. She scooped it up, wrapping it in her scarf for now before burying it deep in her bag. It was designed to be worn by the belt, but the item’s unique appearance could cause some trouble for her if she displayed it openly.

On her way back passed by the corridor to the knight’s quarters. She paused. Link… They’d already saved her life on more than one occasion, earning her grudging respect. But as good of a friend they seemed to be developing into, she knew that as a knight, they were still more loyal to the crown – and her father – than to her. It would be too much of a risk to ask them to go with her, or even to try to say goodbye. Besides, she reasoned, they were far too recognizable to the people, and that would put her at more of a risk of being noticed and remembered.

She considered leaving a note, for her father or Link or one for both of them. But she knew that her father wouldn’t listen to what she had to say, even then, so what would be the point? He would figure it out easily enough, curse her, send guards to find her, and she would be coming back to answer to him sooner or later. And Link, well… they had heard her vent her frustrations long enough, being one of the few she felt safe enough to confide in. They would understand.

So, as the first hints of dawn began to show, Zelda paused in a section of second-floor hallway that faced a less visible side of the castle. Gripping the straps of her backpack, she took a deep breath. She would go out and find a way to stop the coming threat, the alternative that she knew was out there somewhere, as long as she looks hard enough in the months to come.

And if she doesn’t, when her time is up, Zelda will put her own wants on hold once more. Her duties taken back up, because she is not one to neglect the important when there is a possibility for it to work, no matter what her father might think of her. She will make her way up Mt. Lanayru and pray at its springs for the power to seal Ganon away. And perhaps this time, the Goddess patron of her name will respond. But until that point…

She clambered out the window. Better get started, then.


End file.
